A Knight in Scarlet Armor
by Lady Marguerite Blakeney
Summary: A Scarlet Pimpernel fic! This is a Percy Blakeney/Marguerite St. Just(Blakeney) story set during the times of King Arthur. Please review!!!
1. The Rescue

Title: A Knight in Scarlet Armor  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Author Notes: This is not actually based on the Sir Percival from the Arthurian stories, but more like Sir Percival has been replaced with our beloved Percy. This is probably going to be a series of Arthurian based stories involving Percy and Marguerite. I may even put them in an Arthur/Gwynevere/Lancelot situation (but of course it would end differently.) Pleeeeeeeeeeease review!  
  
***  
  
It was the age of chivalry, flashing armor, and adventurous knights. Sir Percival was of no exception to this. He was a dashing Knight of the Round Table, and handsome beyond belief. Had it not been for Lancelot, Percival would probably have been the most sought after bachelor in all of England! But as it came to be, Sir Percivals misadventures and adventures of the like have become over shadowed by the deeds of the Knights of the Round Table and of Arthurs famous legend itself. One of his greatest adventures began so simply, but ended much more different than it had began.  
  
Like most Knights, Percival had a young squire by name of Armand St Just. His charming friend was the son of a deceased peasant mother and father. He had only one surviving member of his family, a beautiful younger sister by name of Marguerite. Percival had never met her, but he felt as if he had known her all her life the way Armand spoke of her. She was an actress in the traveling plays, and had even performed for many of the Lords of England. Every man that met Marguerite fell madly for her, and often Percival found himself wondering if she was that beautiful and enchanting. And soon enough, he would find out.  
  
It had been a calm, sunny English spring day that found Sir Percival wandering the grounds of his castle. But all too soon, the sound of quick horse hoofs and Armand's distressed voice filled the morning air.  
  
"Sir Percival! Sir Percival!" At Armand's horrified tone, Percival turned to spot Armand but a few meters from him.  
  
"What is it, boy? What ever is the matter?" The horse came to a quick halt, and nearly threw Armand over its head. Striving to catch his breath, his words came out in gasps.  
  
"Mar..Marguerite has… been captured by.. Sir.. Chauvelin!" He paused for a moment, hastily licking his dry lips to finish his broken words. "He's holding her captive at his castle! Can't we do something? Sir Chauvelin is a horrible and cruel man. He may have dishonorable intentions, and I fear for her. Please, Sir Percival, something has to be done!" And of course, the thought of adventure awoke all of Sir Percivals knightly instincts. Quickly he sprung into action, sending Armand off to prepare his horse and armor for the unavoidable battle that Percival would face.  
  
'I hope it is worth it, I hope she is as beautiful as they say.'  
  
  
  
****  
  
It was not long before Knight and Squire were galloping through the untamed woods and fields. They were quite in luck since Sir Chauvelins castle was only but a few miles from the castle of Sir Percival, which would aid them considerably when it came to their strength. After a little time, the dreadful castle appeared on the horizon and it was then that they slowed their pace.  
  
"Sir Percival, are you sure that you wish to fight this battle? I will do it myself, if it means freedom for my beloved sister. I cannot allow that knave to bring harm to her!" Percival could only smile at his hotheaded young friend a moment before he replied.  
  
"Do not be silly, Armand, I am delighted to be able to assist you and your sister. I can only hope that the dear lady has not been injured by Sir Chauvelin thus far."  
  
"I fear he wishes to make her his unwilling bride, Sir Percival, he has always been deeply in love with her but she has never returned such feelings for her." As they drew near to the castle, it could be seen to be surrounded by a wide mote. Tied to a tree hung a large horn, one that would signify the arrival of a guest or a challenge by a knight. Within a few seconds, the horns call could be heard as Sir Percival loudly blew into it. Immediately a young boy appeared at the top of the castle wall, curiously peering down at them.  
  
"State your business and if thy art friend or foe!"  
  
"I am Sir Percival of the Round Table, and I am a foe to your lord as I have come to rescue the fair maiden Marguerite from the clutches of such a beast!" The young boy disappeared, obviously set upon the task of telling the Lord of the Castle of this stranger who dared to challenge him. After a great length of time, the huge bridge was lowered and Chauvelin appeared upon his black stallion. His armor was of matching colour, while Percival's was a shimmering scarlet.  
  
"You Sir, You dare to challenge me? And for the rescue of the Lady Marguerite? I fear you will fail in this quest of yours, for she is to be mine and for her I will slay thee!" Without a moment's hesitation, the mighty Sir Chauvelin charged on his horse towards Sir Percival with the spear outstretched. Sir Chauvelin had greatly underestimated his opponent's intelligence and strength. Sir Percival was known for using his brains in a match, not his brute strength. And so, with Chauvelin near him, he raised his sword at such an angle that the spear was deflected and at the same moment his horse sidestepped Chauvelins attack such that instead of impaling his opponent, he impaled a large tree. He gave a startled cry as he fell to the floor, stunned.  
  
"Now, Sir Chauvelin, will you release the Lady Marguerite or shall we continue this fight?" Chauvelin turned, his sword pulled and drawn into a fighting stance. Immediately, Percivals sword was drawn as well and he released himself off the horse. The clanking of metal sounded throughout the grounds, drawing the attention of the fair maiden Marguerite from her tower prison. She drew back the large velvet drapes and took in the scene of the two fighters. Immediately she was taken by the fair-haired fighter, whose helmet had since fallen off. She had seen other knights come to save her and they had failed miserably, but none had caused such a stirring in her. At one moment in the fight, Chauvelin had been backed into a corner and Sir Percival found himself staring up at the opened window. At the site of the woman, his breath caught. The fiery red curls that spilled over petite shoulders, the blue eyes that seemed to drill into his soul, and the smile that she gave to him seemed to light a fire in him that caused him to further thrust forward with his sword. After another few moments of struggle and metal meeting metal, Chauvelin fell to the ground. Sir Percival unlaced the helmet of Sir Chauvelin and with that handsome smirk upon his face; he threateningly held his knifepoint at Chauvelins throat.  
  
"Now, Sir Chauvelin, will you give me the fair Marguerite or shall I have to exert barbaric force upon you?" It took a moment, but finally Chauvelin yielded and announced that Marguerite was free to go. Chauvelin was let up off the ground and he then lead Sir Percival and Armand into the castle. Immediately Marguerite met them and Chauvelin gave her freedom. Before she could give a word of thanks to the brave knight who had saved her, Armands arms were around her and kissing each cheek affectingly.  
  
"Oh dearest Margot! How I worried for you! Tell me that the knave did not hurt you?" Sir Percival could only stand back in amazement at her beauty and he seemed on pins and needles until her melodic voice was released.  
  
"I am fine, darling, quite fine!" She couldn't seem to take her eyes off of the handsome stranger who had saved her life. She pulled gently away from Armand and crossed over to him, offering her small hand. "I believe I owe you my life, Sir." He took her hand in his and bestowed a hot kiss to the top of it. Oddly enough, his action surprised both her and him. A pale blush spread over her cheeks as she looked to him.  
  
"Oh yes! Marguerite, dearest, this is the knight that I serve. Sir Percival, this is my famous sister Marguerite" Armand smiled to the two, Marguerites hand still in Percivals. He bowed to her, and finally released her hand. Immediately he missed the warmth that he felt when he was touching her.  
  
'Now I understand why all those men fell in love with her. I have fallen for her myself..'  
  
***  
  
Percival sent Armand ahead of himself and Marguerite so that a proper room could be set up and prepared for her upon their return. The ride back itself was sheer bliss for Percival. He insisted that she sit in front of him, for her safety, but in reality he wanted the feel of her in his arms for hours on end. He had never longed for a woman as much as he longed for her, and often he found himself lost in a blissful daydream of this being his wedding day and that he was taking his beautiful bride back to his home— their home.  
  
Soon enough, they came upon a small clearing around the time the sun was disappearing. It was a perfect setting, a small crystal pond and the dying rays of the sun gave it such a romantic feeling that Percival simply had to stop. Perhaps here he could confess his feelings. He slid off the horse and took Marguerites hands in his, carefully helping her down. The way she smiled at him set his heart into a series of flutters and he felt as if it would tear its self from his chest and lay itself at her feet.  
  
"Milady, I do hope you came to no harm during your horrid captivity at Sir Chauvelins castle." He escorted the horse over to the pond to drink, his eyes never once leaving her figure.  
  
"He did not harm me, Sir Percival. But I must confess that I feel very thankful for you. I owe you my life, Milord, and for that I am very in debt to you." She took a seat on the edge of the pond, her fingers dipping into the water to cause small ripples. The stars were just taking their places in the purplish sky, the moon making its appearance as well. The way the faint pinks, purples, and reds illuminated her face made him want to kiss her. And he almost acted upon it. He fell to his knees in front of her, his hands taking hers and pressing a passionate kiss to each palm and then to the very tips of her fingers.  
  
"My Lady Marguerite, I did what any true Knight of the Round Table would have done. Your thanks is truly enough, for your life is so very valuable to me.." Immediately he blushed a scarlet color at his slip up. "Because your life means so much to my young squire, you see, and therefore it means the same to me." His words were stuttered and almost unsure of themselves. He imagined she would be disgusted at his sudden affections but instead the most delightful thing happened; she laughed.  
  
"Sir Percival, I understand. You are the perfect gentleman!" Their hands remained in each others grasp and for a long while, neither spoke. They simply sat there and stared at the other one while night swept her dark cloak over the land.  
  
  
  
To be continued… 


	2. The Kiss

Chapter 2 of A Knight in Scarlet Armor  
  
  
  
They made it back to the castle late in the night and Marguerites rooms had been prepared with a blazing fire, warm bed, and a full meal at her candle lit table. Armand and Percival had seen her safely to her room and, sensing the romantic tension between the two, Armand instantly retreated to his room.  
  
"My lord, I must insist that you dine with me. This food is far too much for that of my appetite alone and you must be famished from such a long quest." Hesitantly, Percival entered into her room at her request. It was not that he did not wish to linger in her company for longer, but he feared his body's reaction at the thought of being in a room with her.. alone.. with a bed. He shuddered slightly as he averted his eyes, praying that the sudden blush that rose was hidden in the dim light. Carefully choosing his words, he smiled to her.  
  
"I would be honored to join you for dinner, milady, and perhaps you may wish to tell me about your captivity?" He pulled out her chair for her, easing her down into it. He then took his seat across from her. Immediately he was amazed as the candlelight flickered in her eyes, giving them a seductive glitter. It hit him then; He could not live with out this woman by his side for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes for a second to keep from blurting out "I love you!" and only further killing his chances with her. She was so very beautiful; she must have a love of her own. How could she ever love him, after all?  
  
"Sir Percival? Are you all right? You look a bit drawn. I do hope you are not becoming ill!"  
  
"No no, Milady, I am fine." His voice was shaky and he wanted to run away from her in embarrassment. He sipped the wine that had been provided for them, hoping that a touch of alcohol would calm his frazzled nerves.  
  
"I feel I haven't thanked you enough, Sir Percival, for saving me. Is there anyway I can repay you at all?"  
  
"Ah, My dear lady, your thanks are truly good enough." He looked across the table to her again, and his breath caught in his throat. Would her beauty always amaze him this way?  
  
"My captivity was horrid, Monsieur. Sir Paul Chauvelin is a cruel man, and.. He wanted to marry me! Can you imagine that? I do not love him, and I have always sworn that if I were to marry, it would be for love alone. Do you not agree, Sir Percival?"  
  
"Oh I quite do agree, my lady. But, it is always quite hard to detect true love from ones who are faking it to gain access to wealth." She couldn't help but watch him curiously as he said this, and a smile rose to her lips. This man seemed to be so different from the other Lords she had encountered in her travels. He was so incredibly handsome, as well!  
  
"I understand that well, Monsieur. I have seen many greedy women marry for the sole purpose of money. I have seen so many nobles marry for position, money, and power. Do you not find it sad? I do not understand why a man would marry a woman whom he did not love and then find that love with another woman, typically another mans wife. Is it that you cannot find love unless it is of the illicit variety?" She blushed as she finished her philosophy, her eyes casting downwards as she played with her food.  
  
"Forgive me, Sir Percival, I did not mean to offend your---"  
  
"I am not offended, Mademoiselle. I understand your view point greatly, and I even agree with it."  
  
"Oh? That is indeed a surprise. Did you marry your wife out of love?" Percival couldn't help but laugh as he gazed at her for a moment. 'I wish I could make you my wife..'  
  
"Ah, Mademoiselle, I am quite unmarried you see. So I fully intend that when I do marry, it will be for love."  
  
"Well! I purpose a toast… To your future wife." She lifted her wine glass in the air over the table with a bright smile.  
  
"Ah, and to your future husband." The glasses clinked and Percival could only sit back and pray that the man he just toasted was actually he.  
  
***  
  
After another few hours of delightful conversations, Percival rose to return to his chambers. It was fairly late and he could tell that she was tiring quickly.  
  
"Milady, You must be horribly fatigued from this days events. I myself am quite tired as well. So, I will leave you to your warm bed and offer you the invitation to remain in my home as long as need be." 'Hopefully you will stay here forever…' His thoughts brought a smile to his face as he took her hand and placed a feathery kiss on her light knuckles.  
  
"Sir Percival, you have been so very kind to me! You have saved me from captivity and now give me shelter when I have nowhere else to turn. I owe you greatly, Sir." She rose when he did, and when he had turned to leave her dainty hand rest on his arm to stop him. Surprised and slightly shaken by the feeling of her hand on him, he turned to face her and found himself only inches from her. The tension was so thick in the room that it was almost tangible. In a rash move, he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss but as a second thought, instead he found himself kissing her cheek and hurriedly exiting the room with only a fond 'good night, Mademoiselle.'  
  
  
  
***  
  
Marguerite lay in the velvet and satin covered bed, wide-awake. Her thoughts were centered on the confusing enigma that was Sir Percival. Despite her attempts to ignore the feelings that surfaced when she was in his presence, she could feel herself falling into love with him. The very idea was absurd! She had never loved anyone, despite her Armand, but that was family love. How did she even know that what she felt was love? With a frustrated sigh, she turned in the bed and stared hopelessly out at the distant river.  
  
  
  
* The Masters Chambers across the Castle*  
  
  
  
It was useless for Percival to try and sleep; a certain woman plagued his thoughts. Her beautiful smile, eyes, and those lips. . . He leaned against the balcony as he stared out at the river that twisted and curved in the moonlight. He knew now that his life would never be fulfilled until he had that woman as his wife. His friends would simply have scoffed at him and told him to bed her, but he did not want just her body. He wanted her heart and her mind. He wanted all of her, not just her body. Gritting his teeth together he returned into his chambers and poured himself a glass of brandy.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Percival sat down to breakfast, Armand in a chair near him.  
  
"Marguerite will be down soon, Percy. She is in delightful spirits." Armand could not stop grinning as he watched Percival. Marguerite had told him of her and Percival's dinner together the pervious night, and he knew there was something there. His sister had never once been courted, although there were attempts made but she would always deny them. Now it seemed she had developed some feelings for Percival and Armand could not be more delighted. After a few more moments, she made her appearance. She was dazzling in a blue gown that seemed to bring out her eye color even more and instantly Percival was at his feet. Again that tension filled the room, and even the slightest touch would send a blush to the others face. He eased her into a chair across from Armand and at Percival's side.  
  
Breakfast was filled with silence because no one dared to speak. Armand would attempt at petty conversations but they would always end quickly. It was impossible not to see the heated glances that Percival and Marguerite gave each other, and they would always blush furiously when caught by the other.  
  
"Percy, perhaps you should Marguerite around? I would certainly do so, but I have some work in town.." Armand looked at his mentor, a grin remaining on his face as he watched his friend squirm.  
  
"If.. If that is agreeable with the Lady." He glanced to her, fearing she would say 'no'.  
  
"I would love to, Sir Percival! I fear I did not get a very good view of the estate when I arrived last night."  
  
"Marvelous, shall we get started right away?"  
  
***  
  
He lead her around the first story, which consisted mainly of a library, a parlor, a few more sitting rooms, the grand foyer, and the kitchen. The second story was the master's bedchambers, the master's study, a washroom, and then directly joining the masters' bedchambers was the mistress's bedchambers. As Percy led her into the feminine room, she was amazed at its beauty. Persian rugs, elegant furniture, and a large 4-post bed that could have easily fit 5 or 6 people. Outside, there was a large balcony that also connected the Master and Mistress's rooms. The rest of the rooms were insignificant to Marguerite, they paled in comparison to the Mistress's apartments. The third story consisted of the servants' quarters and an attic. Percival lead her out into the gardens after the extensive tour of the inside. The gardens were breath taking. There was a pond, waterfalls, beautiful flowers, and statues. . . Marguerite looked up to Percival as he gave her the details of the garden.  
  
"My mother loved flowers and so my Father had this built for her. They had a small cove built for them, as well. May I show you?" With a nod from her, and her arm safely tucked in his, he lead her towards the back.  
  
When they arrived, she was completely shocked. It was hidden fairly well, a small cement structure that covered over a certain spot nearest the pond. Flowers and bright green grass surrounded a set of comfortable chairs and a sofa. It was such a romantic spot that tears pricked at the back of her eyes. Percival could not help but gaze down at her as they stood in the enchanting area.  
  
"I could not help but notice your attraction to the Mistress's suite. Would you like to stay there?" He fumbled with his words as he realized how that sounded. "Instead of your other quarters, I mean. You could stay as long as you wish. I did not mean for that to come out sounding like a ---"  
  
"Nonsense, Sir Percival." She smiled as she stood on her toes and planted a light kiss on his cheek. "I understand your offer very well. I do not know. . . That is your future wife's room—"  
  
Before he realized what he was doing, his arms lightly wrapped around her and he profusely kissed her. 


End file.
